63rd Hunger Games: Circus
by Ash Welch
Summary: It's all to entertain, to keep the crowds pleased, the happiness of watching some romance, action and blood. They laugh, bet, and cheer. They don't get to feel the pain, the desperation, and the loss those twenty four tributes feel. They make me sick, and I promise to myself and to you, that this circus will end, and that when it does, we'll be the ones smiling.
1. Intro: Paper White Party

**Intro**

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**Paper White Smile**

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The last floor of the building is bathed by the moonlight, the open sky above everyone, and the music is playing, bodies moving graciously around the dance floor. Flashing all sorts of colors in their heads, yellow, blue, pink... Their clothing fighting to get the attention, as well as the makeup worn in their faces. They smile, and chat happily. Some look over the balcony to see the lights of the Capitol shining in the night's sky, making everything brighter, and festive. Today people gather and celebrate, in all sort of locations throughout the city. The excitement of what the tomorrow holds can't be hidden.

The golden door opens itself, to reveal a young woman, graceful and elegant. Some people gaze at her, while some keep on busy with the task at hand. I look at her, because she's hard to go unnoticed, especially by someone observant like me. Her long and straight blonde hair flows past her shoulders, dyed pink at the bottom. Her face features are thin, giving her a delicate look. Her eyes... Oh boy. It's as if the emerald green was fighting its way over the sky blue, but still the gray claimed it's domain over her iris. I get lost in them for a while, but I recover myself and keep observing. She's saluting some of the guests, giving them warm smiles and sharing some words. There's a small piercing in the left side of her nose, and I tend not to like this things. But, I get a look at her smile and forget about it. It's the sort of smile that makes one want to smile just as bright. I run my eyes down, breaking the spell her lips cast upon me, but getting immediately charmed by her well proportioned figure, her shiny black dress covering barely what needs to be covered. She definitely doesn't need bold colors to get the attention, at least not mine. She almost makes me forget about the people around me. About the reason they are all gathered in here having the time of their life, the reason why she is also in here, my guess being, hosting the party. The reapings are tomorrow, or today since it's already half past twelve.

I frown. I got lost over something so silly, almost forgetting how disgusting this people are. How they enjoy other's pain. I can see some putting packs of money over the table, betting on which district will have the best tribute. The bravest even dare to bet on who will become the victor, without knowing the tributes that will get to the arena. Not even by their appearance, because they will never know them really. Not the slightest will they be able to know what goes through their mind, what they think about this madness called the Hunger Games, and what they think when the life drains out of their bodies. Not that this bastards actually care.

I stop looking around when I see the man that brought me to this party. His paper white hair reflecting the moonlight, while his small and thin frame waved at someone. He is wearing a emerald green suit, a white rose in his lapel. I frown again, at the smile he makes, his thin lips pulling across his face upward. Of course he is enjoying this. Everyone is. Except me, I refuse to. I promised I wouldn't. The woman I saw before, the one that clouded my vision, is now next to him. Next to Coriolanus Snow. I look up to the sky, the stars are there, shining brightly, I wonder how much I will be able to pull this act together, and I know that for tonight, I've had enough. I turn around and leave.

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**AN: This is a SYOT, the form is in my profile. I'll just accept it on PM.**

**I hope I'll be able to update regularly, and also hope to get some interesting tributes to write about.**

** You'll know who's point of view this is later, or not. It's a secret. **


	2. Chapter 1: Frozen Liars

**Chapter 1**

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**Frozen Liars**

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I dream of being in the middle of a meadow, people approaching from every direction. I count them, 24. Their faces are blank, their clothes are torn apart, and there's blood spilling from injuries all over their bodies. I can see that some are armed, with spears, arrows, knives and swords. They keep moving forward, towards me, mumbling some words I can't understand. I try to run, but I can't, my body is frozen. I try to scream, but instead a maniacal laughter escapes my lips. This makes them walk a little bit faster. I try keeping the desperation to myself, they don't like being laugh at. They are closer now, I can hear their mumbling more clear now, they are saying "Please". The word echoes in my head, the fear growing inside my body. Less than five steps and they'll be able to touch me. I press my lips tightly, trying not to scream again. But, I can't. Another laugh escapes my lips, and they fall to the ground. They are dead. I killed them.

I wake up screaming, covered in sweat and shaking. This sort of dreams have been waking me up half through my sleep since they made the announcement. I try to think they are not a bad thing, that they mean that I'm still a caring human. But, I know that's not an absolute truth, because I am closer to turning that dream, no... That nightmare into a reality. I have no other choice. It's for a greater good, I must remind myself of this. It is, it really is. I look towards the white ceiling, and take a deep breath. Inhaling some courage and motivation, and exhaling hard, as if by doing so my troubles will go away. Not that they'll ever will.

I stand up, and walk towards the bathroom. I put my hands in the sink, water running through my fingers, flowing carelessly, I clean my face, refreshing it with the coldness of the water. I open my eyes and see myself in the mirror. Damn this nightmares are taking all the energy out of me. I look paler than I normally do, and that's a lot. My black hair is all messy, I must have moved frantically in my sleep, while I tried to escape of_ them_. I move my hand through my hair, trying to look presentable. I cant appear so ruined in front of the crowds. I must give them what they want after all. I frown to my reflection. Remembering that it's all an act, that I must be one more actor to this show, a director making a cameo appearance in his movie. My dark brown eyes drift away from the mirror, I can't stand my own reflection. The sight of myself sickens me, the weight of everything I've done and will do keeps attempting to crush me constantly. It's for a greater good, I whisper.

I get out of my room and walk firmly, and elegantly, as I've trained myself to do. I reach the glass door that opens itself to reveal the white roses lined up, as well as the glass ceiling filling the room with light, the strong smell is burning my lungs slowly, it makes me nauseous. This is how _he_ smells. And there he is of course, walking at the end of the room. He waves at me in his dark suit, white hair and the white rose sticking out of his lapel. He doesn't need it here though, I'm sure the other thousand roses can cover the smell of _that_. I walk towards him, smiling cooly. Raising my face a little bit higher, standing a little bit taller. Arrogance spilling all over my face. He smiles back at me.

"You left early yesterday", he turns to the side, looking at the roses.

"Indeed. However, to excuse myself from such an early departure, I must say I came up with a way to fix one of my previous ideas. I'm sure it will be worth the inconvenience", I say smoothly. Lies escape my mouth so easily it scares me sometimes, excuses aren't at all hard for me. I guess I'm already used to them.

"I'm sure I won't be disappointed, Wallace", he says while looking at me straight into the eyes.

"I must go now, there's an interview I must attend", I hold his gaze while I speak and then turn around, walking towards the exit. If I don't leave this room soon, I might faint or vomit or scream. Or all of them at the same time.

"Very well, just remember not to let the fame fog your vision", I hear him say as I walk through the door.

I step into the red carpet, walking through the white corridors covered with pieces of art. Paintings, sculptures and other decorations I wish I had the time to appreciate. I turn around in several corners, left, right, left. Until I reach the elevator. I push the button to the level _0_. Where the interview will be held. I hate interviews, and why wouldn't I? They are lying practices to me. That's all I do in them, lie. Pretend to be someone I'm not, betraying with each word everything I believe is right.

I take a deep breath, and the door opens itself. Hundreds of camera flashes blind my vision, but I put on a wide smile. And walk forward, peace keepers maintain the crowds to the sides, clearing a path for me. I give the reporters smiles, a wink every now and then, and some nods, they love me. Or at least, they love the idea of the me I show them.

The doors of the room at the end the floor open and after I enter, two guards close them. The noise of the reporters gets shut down as they do.

As soon as I look at my surroundings, I raise and eyebrow. What is _she_ doing here? The blonde hostess of yesterday's party is sitting in the middle of the room, wearing a dark blue strapless dress. Once again, barely covering what must be covered. Her hair is arranged in a complicated braid that falls to her side. She's smiling at Xiusis Turpin, the interviewer. His capitolish style blinding my eyes, his yellow suit and pink hair accompany his dark skin which is covered by piercings. I've seen him even more extravagant than this, he used to have a stylized beard, not as stylized as that guy called Seneca, but still it had some peculiar design to shape it.

I turn my eyes away from them, observing the room. I've seen it a thousand times, especially on the last few weeks. It has a white marble floor, as well as white walls, the one in front of me has another door, while the rest of the room is partially covered by windows. Xiusis' crew is moving across the room in their colorful shiny uniforms. The cameras pointing toward the center of the room. But, I know that already so there's no need to look at it. I want to keep my eyes as far from _her_ as possible. Either way I know _she_ - they are sitting in a red velvet couch with a huge golden logo of panem covering the wall on the back.

The voices of the people in the room get louder, breaking me away from the daze of my thoughts and announcing me that the current interview is over. I find myself tapping my foot across the floor, as if I'm impatient. I just remembered that I should look as if I'm too cool and important to be waiting. _She_ stands from the couch, smiling and later kissing Xiusis on both cheeks, before she starts walking to the other door in the room. The one that goes to the street instead of the building, and to my luck the one farther away from my current position. I move my eyes from her to him. Xiusis is now looking at me, wide smile in his face, golden teeth reflecting the light. I walk towards him.

"Sorry for the long wait, but I couldn't miss _that_ interview", he says 'that' as if it was obvious how important it was to get some words out of that girl.

"I don't see why would _that_ interview be so especial to make _me_ wait" I say dryly. Mocking the emphasis he used before.

"It isn't as important as yours of course! After all, what is more important than interviewing _you_ the day of the reapings?", he says smoothly, while motioning me to walk towards the couch.

"Who is her?" I can't help but ask as I walk towards the focus of the cameras. I've always been curious and that's probably one of the things I have the hardest time hiding.

"Oh so there's something that Ace Duncan doesn't know!" he says and I give him such a cold look, he swallows hard and continues: "That beauty is Nina Crowe, a very influential figure between the richest people of the Capitol and the one in charge of hosting the meetings between the sponsors and the mentors". I frown. I should manage this information, more if it has something to do with the Games.

We are now sitting on the velvet couch, Xiusis' crew making some arrangements to him. Moving his tie to the left, giving him wine and combing his eyebrows. I keep wondering why I didn't know about who Nina was, but I know the answer. I never went to socialite events, and I didn't mind to pay attention to the mentors or the sponsors. The mentors are former victors, but if they aren't in the Arena they don't really call my attention. Though I'm thankful for them, they -or at least some of them, try their best to save their tributes. They know what it feels like to be one after all. But, the sponsors... Their job is less noble, less caring. Of course they want their chosen tribute to win, why wouldn't they? For them, it's their money what's on stake, not the life of the other 23 tributes.

Xiusis clears his throat, and I am back to the reality. The interview is about to start. The camera man starts counting. _3. _I take a deep breath. _2_. I straighten myself in the couch, while giving a half smile and looking at the camera arrogantly. And, _1, _we are live.

"People from Panem, on this very special day, I Xiusis Turpin bring you the best interviews, with the trendiest people in the Capitol, and the best coverage from the Hunger Games! To my left, a well known figure to all of us, Ace Duncan, the 63rd Annual Hunger Games Head Gamemaker!".

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**A/N: I still need more tributes so keep on submitting! **

**The blog is on my profile!**


	3. Chapter 2: Golden Youth

Chapter 2

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**Golden Youth**

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**Agatha Lloyd, District 1. Victor of the 56th Hunger Games.**

Right now I have the worst headache ever, so not cool. Partying the day before the reapings is _always_ a bad idea, but it seems to be the only way to release the anxiety and stress it brings. It's either this or morphling. Two more kids to go to the Games… Academy volunteers of course. I already know who those two idiots are. And they deserve to be called that way if they believe that participating in this madness will bring anything positive. They should be doing the same as the non-career districts, fearing getting reaped, not even thinking about something as silly as volunteering. I smile sadly… I was an idiot too.

I can't stand up without having the walls, the floor and the rest of the world spinning around. So, I just lay down there on my fancy bed, hugging my feather pillow. I start remembering my days at the academy, kicking around dummies and people, throwing knives, and picking a fight whenever I could. I remember my happiness when I scored first on the Try Outs, at the age of fifteen, meaning that I won over the older kids and that it will be my turn to volunteer in that year's Hunger Games. The 56th Hunger Games… What a trap. I look towards the white ceiling, I hate reminding that I deserve my current condition, since I chose it. I was young and naive. Well, I'm still young, but all the innocence that could have been in me, left as soon as the countdown reached one and the Games began.

We are forced to see the Games every year, though most of the people don't see it as an order, but as entertainment. At least, I did. I don't know why, after seeing what happens in there, we are tempted to participate. Well, I do know. Fame, glory, pride… The reasons are simple, when we do not see the consequences. The remorse of killing others, knowing that you ruined their lives, that their family and friends are sitting in front of the television witnessing as their loved ones get their throats ripped, or their heads cut off. I don't know what it feels to be on the other side of the television, where the loss is fell. I haven't lose any loved one to the Games, but the children that come every year with me, with their hopes up, thinking that winning will change their world, that they'll be rich once they are back, that their parents will be proud, that their sweethearts will be thrilled to have them in their arms once more… Give me an idea, even if it's just a vague one of how does it feel.

I manage to get into a position in which I'm sitting on my bed, everything around me is moving. I close my eyes, it doesnt really help. A thought flashes through my mind. The begging expression on his eyes, blood spilling out of his mouth and his last breath. His blood in my hands, the knife being hold tightly. The weight of my first kill sinking within me. Damian Holstein, fourteen years old from District 10. His mother committed suicide a year later, and his little brother got sent to an orphanage, or the streets. I throw myself back, as I cover my head with a pillow. I scream as hard as I can. I deserve this, it's only fair for being such an idiot.

**Mason Linney, District 2. Victor of the 60th Hunger Games.**

"What happens is that you don't have what it takes!", I snap back at him, while I stand up. My brother stands up a few seconds later with difficulty, his fists clenched down his sides. His eye is swollen, his nose broken and a trail of blood is coming down a cut in his forehead. I smirk. He's such an idiot for believing he ever had a chance. He gives me that angry look we both inherited from our mother. His brown eyes staring at me.

"I still have next year, Mason!" he says and walks away, stepping hard on the floor.

"I still have next year", I mock what he just said. He's useless. A seventeen years old useless brother, a complete disgrace. Father won the Games when he was seventeen, and so did I. And, this piece of garbage gets to ruin the tradition. He didn't even have the guts to come and tell me in the face that he came second in the Try Outs, that he wasn't the one who will volunteer. I beat him up out of anger. He shouldn't have come back here, he should go kill himself instead. I would do it myself if mother didn't came to his aid. A coward, a weakling is what he is. I spit, it disgusts me to share the same blood with him.

I walk over towards the bathroom, and clean Oliver's blood out of my hands. The reapings are in a couple of hours. The volunteers seem fit enough, we have this year's victory secured. I went to the Academy earlier, where they announced who will get to volunteer in this year's Games. I kept a calmed demeanor when I found out that Oliver wasn't the one, I stored all my rage and released it as soon as I saw him. Either way, I had seen the guy that is volunteering practicing before and he has what it takes, not like that bastard. It's a good thing though, my brother wouldn't have lasted, and I need my tributes to crush the tributes from One and Four, the others are mere jokes.

I smile. Remembering how I completely crushed Alex and Agatha's tributes, and how Carter and Marina's lost to the couple of District 11, which I later killed myself. The power I felt as they begged for mercy, how easy it was to clear the world from their existence, and how with just a swing of my sword their heads will roll. Damn I wish I could go back to the Arena and relive every glorious moment of the 60th Hunger Games.

**Carter Reef, District 4. Victor of the 58th Hunger Games.**

"Carter!", I hear before I dive into the sea, and when I come out Marina is looking at me from the pier. She's wearing a short white dress, her wavy blonde hair flowing with the breeze.

"Carter, the reapings are today, did you know that?", she says. I nod, making my way back to the pier. I wish I could stay in longer, the sea just seems to calm me down, to wash it all away. I pull myself out and grab the towel she has in her hand.

"Of course I do, is not such an easy thing to forget. Is it?", I say. She looks sad, her sea blue eyes look tired. She probably didn't sleep much, she probably had nightmares. I put my arm around her shoulder once I finish drying myself, and motion her to walk towards the town. I've been very protective of her ever since my brother died. She's like the youngest sister I never had. Even when everybody thinks we are going out, it's not like that at all. Marina was Nathan's life, and he was hers. I respect that. I might be a lot of things, a career, a murderer, a jerk, but I do follow the unwritten brother's code. It's funny how thinking about all this makes me almost forget about the reapings. Almost.

It's going to be like every year, like it was when I got into the Games. The Academy does the Try Outs, the first one of each sex gets allowed to volunteer. I know the procedure all too well, I like knowing who is going to go on behalf of my district, who's life will I be responsible for. I don't like responsibilities, though I hate to admit so. I like doing things on my own pace, when I want and if I want. Being carefree and laid back is my way of being, and the Games messed that up for me. But, I don't regret volunteering. It was a rough time for my family, so if volunteering meant I could bring more than a fish to the table, and that the house wouldn't get flooded every time there was rain, it was worth it. I came home a victor, I carry the weight of those whose life I took, but seeing the happiness on the faces of my mom and dad, makes it worth it. I know it's not fair, that the others didn't have the fault of my situation, that being happy at their expense isn't good, but that's how this world works, like it or not.

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**A/N: This is kind of an extra chapter, a filler. I need more tributes in order to start with the reapings! **

**UPDATE: The mentors of this year are in the blog, as well as some of the tribute's identification cards!**


	4. Chapter 3: A Blood Stand

Chapter 3

Reapings

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** A Blood Stand**

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**Grace Giga, 13 years old. District 3.**

"Gracie! Gracie wake up!", Arthur is calling me, but his voice sounds very far away. Is he really calling me? Maybe not, maybe it's just another part of my dream. I am walking through a grass field and there's a river in the middle, which is certainly weird because there are no rivers in district 3. I've only seen one when they project the Games at school. I walk towards it and kneel on the side. I stare at my reflection, my blonde hair flowing past my shoulders and my blue eyes look sad, but lately they always do.

"Grace!", Arthur shakes me this time and I wake up. I blink and sit. He's wearing the reaping outfit I made for him, he deserves some nice clothing.

"Gracie get ready, it's late", he hurries me and walks outside. I stand from my bed and look around, I'm very nervous. I hate the reaping day, it scares me. Arthur says that it will be all right but I differ, we both have the chances of getting reaped anytime. I look around our room, heading towards the box in which my clothes are, a square made of zinc walls and ceiling is what we get to call home. Arthur says that someday we'll get to have a big house, he plans on volunteering when he's older. I don't want him to, I don't want to lose anyone else. I search for the bottom of the box, and grab a pale blue dress that belonged to our mom. I can feel the tears building in my eyes, as every time I think about our mother. She's gone now, I remind myself.

I open the cut out part in the wall that serves as a door, it creaks. I put my hand up to cover my eyes from the sun, which is blinding. There are no windows at our home, just the door. It's very dark in there, and there is only a gas lamp to give us light on the nights. But, I believe that as long as we have each other, we'll be ok.

**Arthur Giga, 13 years old. District 3. **

I managed to fall asleep when the rain and thunders calmed down, when our house didn't seem to be crumbling apart. It must have been way past twelve, because I feel as if I didn't sleep at all. I am dressed in my reaping outfit, and I know my name is on that bowl more than it should. I can't help but feel nervous about it, though I won't accept it. I roll up the long sleeves of my white shirt, the morning sun warming the streets, drying the water left by yesterday's storm. I roll up my dark blue pants too, there are many swamps around, Gracie will kill me if the clothes she made got dirty. I look towards the sky, praying to mom and dad, hoping they'll hear and give some strength to me. I want to believe they do hear what I say, but I know they don't. They are dead, and that's it.

I hate reaping day a lot, I fear that the escort will pick my name. But, moreover I fear that Gracie's one does. She has also signed up for tesserae, she has the exact same chances I do. And that doesn't calm me down. If she got reaped, I'd volunteer. She doesn't have a chance on her own, she's too sweet and caring for the Games. She wouldn't last, she'll die. I shake my head, as if by doing so the thought will disappear. It doesn't.

If I got reaped, I guess I could last for a while, but I doubt I'll come home victor. I'll join father and mother wherever they are, for sure. Gracie would have a hard time without me, but she'll make it. Or at least that's what I want to believe. I know, that the probabilities of me going to the games are high, and that they will be higher. Because I want to go, I need to go. Not now though, when I'm older. When I'm eighteen I'll volunteer, if neither of us is unlucky enough to get reaped before that. Volunteering is the only way we'll be able to get out of this crappy place, we'd get a big house on the victor's village that wont get destroyed if there's a storm outside, and enough food to eat until we are full. Of course for that, I'll have to win. But, I know that by that time I'll be able to do so. I've been training ever since mother died five years ago, and started training even harder when father passed away. I laugh a little. I probably sound like a career. But, I don't mind, I know that preparing myself is the key to success, the key to the life Gracie and I deserve.

There's a creaking sound coming from our house, and I turn around. Gracie is ready, she has the dress that belonged to our mother on. She looks scared and nervous, and she has the right to. I put on the most confident face I can, I need to be strong for her.

"Let's go Gracie", I say softly.

**Ampere Elyot, District 3. Victor of the 52nd Hunger Games.**

And here comes the escort. I frown. Her skin tone is a light green this year, her lips are fresh blood red, while her hair, a mixture between green and brown, is all messy and has some flowers tangled on it. She's disgusting, as always. She still has the tattoos around her face and that tight, and also green dress is probably asphyxiating her. How do they call that a human being? Whatever. She starts babbling some words in that annoying high pitched tone of hers. Meanwhile, I look to the crowd of children in front of me and wonder who is going to this year's massacre. Who's life will I have to see departing? Will it be that girl who's shaking over there? Or that one with the broken glasses? I look away, back to the tree we have as a escort.

"Well, well! Shall we go now with this year's tributes? Yes, okay. Let's see", she says over the speaker, while giving a wide smile to the crowd. I hate her. Of course she's happy, she doesn't get to be in there. She doesn't feel the nerves, the anxiety and the panic it causes. But, that's how this world works. Or at least how it works for now.

She walks over the bowl with the names, almost falling as she does. Why the heck does she wear heels if she's going to walk like a dying goat? I smile a little when she trips. Cali squeezes my shoulder giving me a hard look. I frown. The karma is good, she should let me enjoy it while it lasts. She motions me to look back to Trisha with her head.

"Here we go! So, this year, for the female tribute we'll have…", she puts her hand in the bowl, searching for the one she'll pick, showing her white teeth. I'll punch her on the face one of this days. She picks one paper, and opens it slowly. Probably those long nails make it hard for her, not like I really care. "Grace Giga"

As every time a person gets reaped, the rest of the children walk away from the person like he or she has some sort of hazardous disease, while looking all relieved. Unless of course, they are close friends or family. I see movement in the thirteen years old section. You have to be kidding me. There, in the middle of the group, now with a clear path to the stage, stands a little girl. Blonde haired, with pale blue eyes and all the color seems to have drained from her face. She's biting her lower lip, probably trying not to cry or thinking that it is a nightmare she wants to wake up from. I wish it was, but it isn't. She's in shock and doesn't move, the peacekeepers start walking towards her. And then there's a kid beside her, wild eyes on his face. They look a like, so they are probably brother and sister. He says something to her I can't hear. The girl nods robotically, and takes a little step forward. The peacekeeper puts a hand on her shoulder, and she puts a pained expression, he must have grabbed her too hard, that animal.

"She can walk by herself you broken bulb!", the boy that ran towards Grace shouts to the peacekeeper that is holding her, and then kicks him straight in the groin. The guard lets out a groan. That must have hurt, a lot. There comes another peacekeeper and punches the kid on the face. Grace screams, the tears she was holding now running freely down her cheeks. I stand up and grab the microphone. Which was in the stupid escort's shaking hands.

"Stop this right now" I say. It's not like I have the authority to do it, but I won't let some adults bit the crap out of a kid either. Nobody says anything though. I look at the crowd, the peacekeepers are throwing angry faces at me, and the rest of the people stare expectantly and fearfully. The boy is already on his feet now, a trail of blood coming down his nose, and more of it in his mouth. He has the same wild stare as before, I can see his fist are clenched on his sides.

"Come on Grace, you must come to the stage now", I say, this time not as an order, but putting my voice as soft and soothing as I could. Which is not much, but it's something. The girl walks forward, sobbing. She positions herself next to me. I give the microphone back to Trisha and sit down, Cali also stood from her chair, and was now sitting again, her eyes fixed in the crowd. The peacekeepers made their way back to their original positions, alternating their hateful looks from me, to the boy, who is now cleaning the blood with his sleeve, never taking his eyes from the girl. I wonder how would the people of the Capitol take this, I'm sure they are quickly editing what happened.

"Oh… Oh well. My my… Now, let's go to see who'll be our male tribute this year", Trisha says, going back to her normal self. She picks the paper faster this time and opens it while giving nervous smiles to the crowd. She stares at the paper for a second, and swallows. "Arthur Giga"

Grace starts crying again, while shaking her head. I can hear the murmurs of the crowd, troubled expressions in their faces as they glance at the thirteen years old's section. The boy starts walking forward firmly, with a frown in his face he stands by Grace's side and hugs her for a few seconds, he steps back, but stands by her side and crosses his arms. She continues sobbing, but a little bit quieter.

"Uhm… Here are your tributes for the 63rd Annual Hunger Games, Grace and Arthur Giga!", Trisha announces. The Giga Twins... This will be a hard year.

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**AN: This are the Giga Twins, I particularly like writing about Arthur a lot. I wrote this while hearing Stand by Rascal Flatts. And yeah, I'll do the reapings without a particular order. **

**I STILL NEED MORE TRIBUTES. I'm missing District 1 boy (which I REALLY need), the boys from 5, 7, and 9, and both from 11 and 12 (No district 12 fans out there?) **


	5. Chapter 4: Payback Champions

Chapter 4

Reapings

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**Payback Champions**

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**Bianca Seabone, 18 years old. District 2.**

Chloe starts combing my hair, which is a mess. I probably moved a lot while I slept. She wants to make it look fantastic and I let her, it reminds me of my mother and how she used to comb it when I was younger... Before my brother died, and everything went downhill. He was killed in the Games, and my parents haven't been able to accept the loss yet. I miss him so much it hurts, and today I'm volunteering. I've been training since I'm 5 years old. So, there's no fear in my mind, only excitement. I smile. Finally I'll get to go to the Hunger Games.

"Are you girls ready?" shouts Leo. Chloe giggles, and I roll my eyes.

"Yes, baby!" she answers. She hurries me to move, we walk down the stairs, and out of the house. Leo with his apparently permanent smirk and brown hair, grabs his girlfriend in his arms. And on his side stands Killian, with a black suit, looking at me with his gorgeous green eyes. I walk towards him, he cups my face in his hands and kisses me. I'm so thankful I have him. Not only is he the best boyfriend I could ask for: strong, handsome, nice and funny, he also excels at being my best friend. He copes with me, and knows me perfectly, even when I can be unpredictable. I'll miss him while I'm on the Games, but it will be worth it.

We start walking towards the town square, holding hands. As I move, I think about a thousand things. My strategy for the Games, how the Capitol will be, my parents… They'll come and see me before I go, but I don't really want them to. Before my brother's death, my father supported our training, he encouraged us to be the best, to be victors someday, like he was. But, after it, he started looking at me as if I was dead, or soon to be dead. While my mother, keeps trying to persuade me to not volunteer, to not risk my life, to stay with them. And, that's not going to happen. This attitude of them is what put the distance between us, the reason I prefer staying in Killian's house instead of my own, the reason why I spend everyday training at the Academy until late at night. My brother's death motivates me even more to do this, it was our dream ever since I have memory to become victors, and I'll do that for both of us.

We reach the town square, and Killian kisses me again, and walks away. He's twenty, so he will stay on the sides, with the rest of the people. He knows I'll volunteer, and he trusts me, he supports me, he knows I'll come back, and so do I.

I walk over to the eighteen years old section with Chloe and Leo by my side. She's telling a story, but I can't hear her. Right now I'm focused on the main stage. There she is, sitting like if she was a queen. The major's daughter, my future mentor… My brother's murderer... Mandy. I'll have my revenge someday, sooner or later. I want to see her die, in a slow and painful way. I want to kill her myself. I will kill her myself.

**Zander Brooke, 18 years old. District 2.**

I swing my sword down several times, until the dummy in front of me is nothing but trash. I grin. I enjoy feeling the weight of the sword against my palm, the ease it has to cut and rip everything in its path if given the right use and the power it gives. It's the perfect weapon. Milah's beautiful face appears in my mind. I smile. She differs in that, for her, the knives are the most practical and useful weapon, she's deadly with them. Damn! I'll miss her while I'm on the Games.

I leave the training room and head for the showers. I'm the only one in here, everybody is on their houses getting ready for the reapings, but I wasn't able to sleep due to the excitement, so I am here since midnight. The hours run when I train, and I figured out it will be the best way to spend my time.

I finish showering myself and put on my black tuxedo. I'm ready to go to the town's square, more than ready to volunteer. My mother will probably scowl me when she sees me for not having breakfast with them, but I know she understands. My parents are very supportive, they want to see their son on the big screen, making them proud, coming home as a victor. And, I can't wait for that to happen. I'll make my way to the victory with my sword, crushing whoever gets on my path. I'll get the glory that comes with the title, the fame, the money.

By the time I reach the town's square, the ceremony is about to begin. I walk towards the 18 years old section, seeing this year's female volunteer as I do. Sorry Bianca, but you are going to be as dead as your brother. There can only be one victor, and that's going to be me. I look over towards the seventeen years old, and there's Milah, already looking at me. I give her a wink, and she throws me a kiss. We both smile. Then the major starts speaking and I look towards the stage, thinking that soon I'll be on it, being declared officially a tribute. I'll be back in there later, as a victor.

**Mandy Gneiss, District 2. Victor of the 61st Hunger Games.**

The mayor's speech is exactly the same as always, though I told him that it was as boring as it could possibly be. It can't be helped, daddy has never minded about other's opinions, but neither do I. I scan through the crowd of children in front of me, they are all… _flawed_. He's too fat, the girl over there is too skinny, and that one has glasses. I frown. I just remembered last year's volunteers, I'm grateful that those two weaklings got killed. After all, if the girl got hurt by a 13 years old and the boy started crying when he broke his arm, they don't deserve being victors. They deserved getting burned alive by the other careers. But, this year will be different. I made sure of it, I went to the Academy almost on a daily basis for the last month. I watched them, their skill and their resistance. Seeing who was up to my standards. I had to talk and persuade the director of the Academy of increasing the level of the Try Outs. I can't accept the shame of coming back without a victor again, its just unacceptable. I hate loosing, and I hate it even more if its for the incompetence of two bastards that can't win a simple Game.

Mason is sitting by my side, his eyes fixed on the crowd. He's wearing a black tuxedo, sitting on his chair as if he owned the place. I like that. We have the same goal in common, which is having one of our tributes as the victor for this upcoming Games, no matter what. That and some occasional late hour _meetings_ in his or my house, make us be somewhat close.

Finally father decided to end up with his speech, and now the escort stands up and walks towards the center of the stage. I look away in disgust. How's that woman allowed to look like that in public. Her dress is like a canvas with dripping painting, the same with her make up. I've never liked Capitol's fashion, it isn't functional nor appealing. She says some words, and later puts her hand in the bowl to pick the female tribute of this year. This is such an useless action. We are on district two! We have people fighting to volunteer ever since the Hunger Games started. I understand that it's a formality though, and as such it needs to be done. Like it or not.

"Rosalie Elmm!" says the escort through the microphone. Everybody looks bored, I bet they cant wait to go back to whatever they were doing, except the students of the Academy who didn't won in the Try Outs which are giving angry glares to those who did. The girl makes her way out of the fourteen years old section with a frown. She's from the Academy, and scored 4th in the Try Outs. Such a looser... Unprepared children shouldn't participate on them, they just make a fool out of themselves. At the same time, there's movement in the eighteen years old section. A few seconds later, the brat reaches the stage.

"Is there any volunteer?" The escort asks as if she didn't know. I roll my eyes, this formalities really get on my nerves.

"I volunteer!" Says Bianca, a tall brunette girl with a muscular body build. I nod. She seems to have what it takes, not only the normal traits of a good career, but also her skills at knife throwing are superb and she have enough charisma, with some tips she'll get the sponsors on the palm of her hand. She walks towards the stage, her shoulder clashing on the other girl who was on her way down. She smirks, while the other one puts a pained expression. I like her attitude. On top of that, she's a victor's daughter. However, her brother… He was a fool, a disgrace to that family. I remember how he doubted killing the girl from District 6, I took the knife out of his hand and killed her myself, but not before I killed him. I have no tolerance for weaklings. Hopefully, she wont be like Chris. I'm sure she hates me, and I couldn't care less. I'm not here to make friends, all I want is for one of this two to come home as a victor, so I can cover up last year's mess.

"What's your name sweetie?" asks Toya, the escort.

"Bianca Seabone", she answers firmly.

"All right then, here's your female tribute: Bianca Seabone! Now, on to the boys…" the escort says as she reaches back to the bowl and grabs another name.

"Oliver Linney!" announces Toya. Oh well, Mason's less successful scum-for-a-brother got reaped. I glance towards Mason, who stares at his brother with disgust as he makes his way up, looking at the floor with his fist clenched down his sides. Toya asks if someone wants to volunteer.

"I volunteer!" shouts Zander Brooke. I've got high hopes on him. He walks confidently towards the stage. His tall and muscular body inside that suit looks handsome, I bet the sponsors love him already. I saw him at the Academy, and his ability with the sword is outstanding, the only one who I've seen handling one better is Mason. He rips the dummies apart as if they were nothing. Definitely victor material. But, of course he is. I refuse to take anyone but the best to this Games.

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**A/N: I'm missing two tributes! The males from District 5 and 12!**

**Sorry for the shortness of some of the POV's, they'll be longer **


	6. Chapter 5: Memories for Tomorrow

Chapter 5

Reapings

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**Memories for Tomorrow**

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**Landon Holstein, 14 years old. District 10. **

The sky is gray, some raindrops splash against the pavement. It's reaping day. I'm siting on the floor, covered by a huge plastic bag. In a few minutes I'll have to head towards the towns square. I can't help but remember how different this day used to be. I have never looked forward it, but it was warmer. Now I'm alone, and there's no one to comfort me.

In the past, mom called us from the kitchen, with the delicious breakfast, waiting for us to be ready. She kept herself busy by doing shores at the house very early in the morning, trying to distract herself from the fact that his older son had the chance to get reaped. We weren't rich, but we weren't poor either, we were perfectly fine... We had each other. I sat on the table that day, with my blue suit on. I knew about the risk that today meant, but I never fully believed that he could get reaped. I didn't want to think that it was a possibility. He came downstairs minutes later, with a beige shirt and brown pants. He seemed calm, at least to me. However, he always did, I looked up to my brother, I admired him until the very end. I still do. We ate and talk, they laughed at a joke I said. And then, it was time to go. I remember how the escort put her hand in the bowl, and after a few seconds announced that he was going to go to the Hunger Games. I was in shock, and started crying. My mom started crying too, she shouted his name as loud as she could, her voice breaking after a couple times. He walked towards the stage, it was the first time I recognized something as fear in my brother's face. I won't forget his face, ever.

I visited him later, before he went to the Capitol. The last time we saw him. My mom and I entered the room, we hugged each other, and cried together. He said he'll try his best to come back, I do believe he did. I had hope he'll come home a victor, I saw how the days passed, how tributes died, and how my brother was still there, in the last five. Then it happened, he encountered the female tribute from one, Agatha Lloyd, one of the favorites of the Capitol. They stood there, face to face, my brother swinged his sword, but missed. She moved forward and stabbed him in the stomach, she took the knife out and then stabbed him again, this time on the chest. I saw how the life left his body, how his eyes turned empty... the pained expression. He was fourteen at that time, I'm fourteen now. I can't help feeling fear about what today holds, I fear getting reaped more than anything. The Games have taken so much from me, the only thing I have left is my life.

Maybe if mother was around I'll feel better. But, she's gone too. I left the school early that day, I saw my brother's death sitting on my chair in the classroom. I bursted in tears in front of everyone, but I don't care about that. He was my brother after all. My mom tried to cope with it, but failed. First she was depress and wouldn't leave her room, then she fell for the alcohol, until one day she couldn't stand it anymore and stabbed herself, right were my brother was. I arrived home to see her on the floor... dead. That's another image I won't ever forget. I was left without nothing, and its all thanks to the Games.

Children can't live alone without an adult, so I was send to an orphanage, however they made us work too hard, for a lot of hours and take tesserae. There wasn't enough food, the directors only gave us what was utterly necessary to keep living, nothing more. I couldn't stand that place, so I left. I've been sleeping wherever I can for the last year, I've gotten used to it already. I take the food of the tesserae, and after my time at the orphanage, I know how to make it last. Sometimes I do errands for the richest people on the Capitol, and get some money in return. I had to quit school though, I couldn't work and study at the same time. I miss going to school. I smile sadly. When I was little, I would have never thought I'll say that. It's surprising how things can change.

**Avalon Brahma, 14 years old. District 10. **

I came to the town square early, since my father needs to help with the preparations. I'm the first girl in here. They are still arranging the stage, dad is moving around it like crazy, ordering the decorators to move things from one side to another, I can see the mentors on the back, sitting already. I remember we had to see their Games at school, as a part of District History. The female victor, Leyla, now with visible wrinkles on her face and short gray hair, used to be a brunette beauty in her youth. While Gregorio, the male victor, gained a lot of weight, he wasn't skinny before, but now he's too fat and has difficulty to move himself. They look calm. I like seeing the mentors of our district, because they give me hope every time it's reaping day. I like thinking that if they could, I can. I'm still scared of getting reaped of course, I've always hated the Games. Though I can't accept that in public, no matter what. Nobody can after all.

I walk around, my beige lace dress flowing with the wind. I'm holding an umbrella for the light rain that is falling. Mom picked the dress for me, she's still at our house. She takes hours and hours to get ready, she always looks pretty so I don't get it. She says that the mayor's wife must look amazingly stunning. It makes sense, so I let her be.

I keep walking as I bite my nails, a bad habit of mine. I do it every time I'm nervous, and now I am really nervous. I wish mom and dad were available now, to sooth me, to tell me everything will be alright... But, they are busy and I have to understand that.

People start arriving to the town square, and I shiver. The reapings are closer and closer now. My heart is beating fast against my chest. I try to think in good things, but all that comes through my head are my chances to come back if I get reaped. And I have none. I've seen older, bigger and more prepared kids die on the Games, I don't want to be one of them. I want to live. I'm lucky that at least my name is not in the bowl more than it should, I'm thankful that I don't have the need to take tesserae like the poor kids. I would probably be a thousand times more nervous if that was the case. I take a deep breath and smile a little... This district is full of poor kids. I might not have much chance of becoming a victor... But, that doesn't matter, because after all it's almost impossible for me to get reaped.

**Leyla Gallardo, District 10. Victor of the 38th Hunger Games.**

The town square is full of people, and the reaping ceremony has just started. The mayor gives his speech, I look down, towards my hands which lay on my lap. I'm tightly holding them together, praying for this to be a good year. I close my eyes, and the images of all the tributes I've been mentor of flash through my mind, their faces, the spark in their eyes when they see the Capitol for the first time, and their faces when they lay dead on the ground. Please, please... Let this be a good year, I think as I close my eyes tighter.

The mayor finishes his speech, and I keep repeating that phrase in my head. Over and over again. Please let this be a good year. Please let this be a good year. The escort grabs a paper out of the bowl and reads it out loud.

"Avalon Brahma!" She announces, and I can't help but look to my right, we're the mayor and his wife are sitting. He looks as if he was shocking up, but keeps his composure. The same with his wife, though I believe I can see the reflection that only watery eyes can give.

When I look back there's a girl coming out of the fourteen years old's section. She is in shock for sure, since she is walking robotically towards the stage. She looks at her father, then at her mother, and swallows hard. She's acting brave. She knows breaking down in front of everyone will be bad, she knows she must keep her composure. Just as her parents are doing.

The escort immediately puts her hand on the bowl. Please let this be a good year, please, please. I repeat over and over in my head. I'm sure that girl won't last, I know it from experience.

"Landon Holstein!", says the escort. I swallow hard. The image of Damian, his older brother, comes to my mind. How he talked about his family, how hard he tried lo learn everything he could, how he told us the jokes that Landon used to tell him... How he died.

Landon steps out, also from the fourteen years old's section. At first he looks shocked, but his expression changes to a frown. He looks exactly like his brother to me. I look towards Gregorio, who's sadly staring at the boy. He had high hopes on Damian, we all did. I look back at Landon, and I know I've made up my mind. This boy is going to become a victor, no matter what.

"The tributes for this year's Hunger Games: Avalon Brahma and Landon Holstein!" Announces the escort. It will be a good year, I've got the feeling it will be. That boy has a star looking upon him.

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**AN: Finally all the spots are filled! If you are asking why I didn't detail the escort's appearance i, it's because this woman is already used to seeing the fancy Capitol style.**

**YOU CAN PARTICIPATE: I'll let people submit the escorts if they want, PM me the name, district, the personality and the desired appearance if you want :) (ONLY PM)**


	7. Chapter 6: Shades of Red

Chapter 6

Reapings

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**Shades of Red**

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**Ford Tran, 17 years old. District 6.**

I feel the little sting, the small fire building inside my wrist, the blood making its way, flowing carelessly down my arm. I smile as I look. I can feel the pain, and I enjoy it. It doesn't really matter whose pain is it, mine or of someone else, the joy is the same. It's an unexplainable feeling. But, the fear in their faces, the tears on their eyes, and theirs screams... It is such a beautiful sight! It can't compare to anything else.

The first time I got this feeling was that cold morning ten years ago, on the second day of the 53rd Hunger Games. That's when I experienced intense pain for the first time in my life. It wasn't physical pain like this one, it was a stronger sort of pain. The one you can only feel by loosing someone close, someone you love. I lost my brother. I saw how his head escaped from his body, the blood rushing through the openings left by the sword's various swings. The blank expression his face had afterwards, when it laid there, separated from the rest of his body. It scared me at first, but then I felt it. The glorious pain, the feeling of emptiness, how hard it was to breathe, the ache in my chest... I remember it all, I don't want to forget it. It changed my life... The way I saw everything became dull.

I feel great all the time now, thanks to this place. I get to see people starving on the streets, pain filled expressions everywhere... Their suffering widens my smile, it fills me. Especially today, were that pain gets mixed with fear, my two favorite things combined. It couldn't be more perfect than that. I can't wait until the reapings start, I can't wait to volunteer. I will be able to take part in the Games. I'll have a license to make people suffer with my own hands, to kill them. I laugh. I've been waiting this for ten long years, and finally today is the moment I will start my journey towards the Arena.

I walk through the streets, people stare at me, and whisper things on my back. They are freak out, as my parents are. They left me on my own after I "changed". After I discovered the true meaning of my life, the thing I enjoyed the most. I remember that when my brother died I was at our house, we watched the Games all day and all night to see how Honda was doing. When he got killed mother started crying, father held her, but I stood there in silence. That silence didn't last for long though, it got replaced with laughter.

My parents never actually liked me, I wasn't good enough for them, my only family was Honda. They never loved me. I don't care, in fact, I smile. I scare them, isn't that amazing? They have all the right to fear me, I want them to. Actually, I'll give them more reasons for being afraid soon enough, they'll have nightmares about me, about what I'll do. I love it. I love the Games, what they cause and all the emotions they bring. I can't wait for this madness to start.

**Bridget Metro, 16 years old. District 6.**

I arrive to the town square and it is full with people. If it was a normal day, I'll be bouncing all over the place talking to the others. But, not today. I start fidgeting with my hands as I move towards the sixteen years old's section. I accidentally bump into someone.

"Watch your step!" the guy says. He looks down at me angrily, he's my age but a head taller than me. I smile apologetically.

"I'm very very sorry Dino", I recognized him as soon as I laid my eyes on his face. I smile sweetly, but that's just a mere façade. I still remember how he made fun of me when I tripped and fell at school. The way he pointed at me and laughed while telling his friends how stupid I was.

I stand on the tip of my toes, until my face is closer to his and I stick my tongue out. Then lower down, and keep moving. But, not before I hear him saying with disgust that I was a weirdo that should get reaped. He is joking for sure, at least that's what I want to think.

I look towards the side and I can see my mom and my dad in there. She's holding my newborn brother. We aren't that close, but we do love each other. My mother and her constant scoldings to me for supposedly annoying them, and the way my father prefers being in silence rather than speaking, on the contrary of me, makes me stay a little distanced from them. But, I still love them a lot.

I look down towards my dress, it's green and gorgeous. I look really nice on it. I normally love how I look, but on the reapings day I get to dress like a princess, which is awesome. I think I'm a really cool person. The only thing I dislike is how short I am, so I like standing on my toes.

The mayor starts with his speech, but I'm distracted by the mentors. I always get distracted by them, they always do weird stuff. This time they are smiling at each other, and her face is covered in painting. That's what the morphling did to them. I'm thankful for them though, because they sort of distract me from the panic that the reapings bring. I take a deep breath. They'll be over soon.

**Honora Porter, district 6. Victor of the 31st Hunger Games.**

I put my hands in front of me, and look at them. They are covered in painting, I press them against my face. I smile and close my eyes. I can imagine how my yellowish skin tone gets covered by the various colors, I am a living canvas. I smile again, moving my hand in circles around my cheeks, and move a little to the sides. The voices of the crowd unite to form an interesting rhythm that makes me want to dance.

The mayor stands up in his boring black suit, I look to my left and see Hector. His wide eyes staring at me and he smiles, I smile back, he smiles wider, so do I. I enjoy this game a lot. After a while, our smiles can't get wider, so we start making weird faces to each other. Laughing as silently as we can. Suddenly, we turn around, there was a scream coming out of the crowd.

There's a kid crying on the floor and a woman screaming on the sides. Poor boy, he probably got reaped. His extremely blond hair is almost white, I want to throw lots of painting at it, and see how he looks that way. Probably like our escort. I giggle. I like how the people from the Capitol dress, all the colors blending around them. The screams of the woman continue, I hate screams. I frown at her. The noise is coming like blades to my ears.

"I volunteer!" I turn around to the kid that shouted. Why do people keep talking so loud? The voice belongs to a boy coming from the seventeen years old section, brown hair and blue eyes. He's got a big smile on his face, I smile too. But, he doesn't widens it. He's not playing with me... My lips curve down.

"What's your name young man?" asks Irvina with a smile. But, I know she's not playing with me. She never does.

"Ford Tran", says the boy. He's still smiling, but he's no fun. If he's not playing, I don't like him. Besides, who volunteers in this District? That's for the red lovers, those from district 1, 2 and 4. But, not us. Never us.

I look back towards Hector and pat him on the shoulder. He looks and smiles, so do I. We play again, until we can't widen our smiles anymore. Then we laugh quietly and start smiling once more.

"Bridget Metro!" shouts Irvina. Why is she so loud? There's no need to scream. But, she says it with a smile, so I calm down again.

A short girl comes out of the sixteen years old section, the color seems to have left her skin. She has dark brown hair and bangs in her forehead, her brunette eyes are probably as wide as mine. I looked a lot like her before... Such a long time ago. Before the Games turned me into a canvas.

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**AN: This chapter was hard to write. I wrote Honora's part while hearing "Liquor Store Blues" by Bruno Mars. **

**Who's your favorite mentor so far?**


	8. Chapter 7: Perfect Wonderland

**UPDATE: I haven't drop the story! I'm on vacations, and I have no internet access. Meanwhile, my brother is going to make a SYOT, if you want you can check out his. His name is Bran Welch. **

Chapter 7

Reapings

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**Perfect Wonderland **

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**Peyton Hemmings, 17 years old. District 1.**

Today is the reaping day, and I couldn't be more excited. I couldn't sleep last night, but that's just fine. I'll sleep later, on the train ride possibly. I walk towards the town square on my own, getting a few whistles on my way. I guess that they can't resist how I look on this dress. Every now and then I wink at the boys and they smile back, raising their eyebrows expectantly. Yeah guys... Keep expecting.

The sun is shining at its fullest, it is a very hot day. I tie my long goldish brown hair in a ponytail while I walk. My house is relatively close to the town square, so after a while I arrive. There are already people in there. I make my way towards the seventeen years old section with a grin on my face, while raising my chin a bit higher. I got first on the Try Outs, so I have all the right for being cocky.

I start thinking in everything that will happen in the next hours. The ceremony will begin, the mayor will say his speech, and the escort will pick the girl who will go to the Games. Then, I'll volunteer. I hope _he _sees that. I want _him _to see how far I reached without _his _help. I want _him_ to swallow what _he_ said about mom, but what I want the must if for _him_ to pay what _he_ did to my sister.

I can't help but remember that day, I was just a little kid back then. I went to Isadora's room, and there _he_ was... _Touching_ her. The man we used to call father. But, I refuse to do so anymore. Not after I saw that, not after my sister became depressed, not after he left to find a job in the Capitol, stating that we wouldn't be able to survive without him. We don't need him, and I'll prove that today. I know I'm frowning, but I don't really mind. The idea of him disgusts me.

By the time I had finish thinking about my sweet revenge, everybody is already in their places. Well, everybody but the mentors, who are nowhere in sight. The mayor has an angry frown in his face, he has always been an impatient man, and one that respects and follows the formalities exactly as they are. I can't be angry at them though, the excitement is too much for that. I'm finally volunteering today! I've waited for some years now, I believe I can wait a few more minutes.

After what seemed like seconds, Agatha and Alex make their way towards the stage. Agatha sits gracefully with that eccentric manner of her, she still looks beautiful though. I'm sure that the reason this two are still our mentors, even when there have been more recent victors is because they are loved by the Capitol. Alex's face is sweaty, but he looks hot that way. That way, and every other way he is in. I guess all the girls, especially the ones at the Academy, like him. And we have a reason, he's gorgeous and strong. I shake my head to the sides, I've got more important things to think about. Like, what I'll do if I get to see _him_.

**Pryce Vexed Gardner, 17 years old. District 1. **

This is what I'm meant to be... A victor. I've known this, everyone has, ever since I was born. In less than a month I'll be right back at my home, District 1, getting cheered by a proud crowd. I know that it will happen, so I don't have to worry about anything. I actually don't, it's just a game after all, and I always win.

I am standing in the seventeen years old's section. My arms folded in front of my chest, a grin on my face. I'm more than ready for this. I glance to the sides, and I can see my father and my mother. He gives nods at me, and I nod at him. That's how he shows his support and pride. My mother throws me a kiss and I give her a smile. They've been waiting for this since a long time ago. They are probably as excited as I am.

I wonder how the other tributes will be. If there will be any one worth fighting against me, if there would be any stupid lovers, if the careers of the other districts would be up to the challenge... At least, I know my district partner is, I've seen her practice. And not only does she have a sexy body with great curves, but also she has great skills handling weapons, and she's fast. She's definitely going to be one of my allies. I'm sure that as soon as we volunteer we'll have thousands of sponsors, after all we have the looks for it. And, when the Games start, we'll surely put District 1's name on top.

I start getting anxious, I want to volunteer now, I want this to begin already. But, it seems like we are waiting for the mentors to appear. Oh, they just arrived. Those two are there to make us even better, aside from making the deals with the sponsors. I wonder how Alexandrite will be, I'm not sure what to expect. I know he's a beast, I know that behind that nice and classy look there's a monster. But, I've never talked to him, I admired him when I was little, when I saw his Games on the television. On the other side, Agatha will be a delight to meet for sure, or just to look at. She's one sexy lady.

The mayor starts and the ceremony passes quickly, at least to me. I started thinking in my strategy and as soon as I do that, I get lost in my thoughts. I smile. They shouldn't be doing any of this, they already have a victor, and that's me.

**Alexandrite Thyst, District 1. Victor of the 55th Hunger Games.**

"We are so damn late!" I shout at the top of my lungs as we run out of the victors village, towards the town square.

"Whatever!" Agatha screams back and I give her a disapproving look, but I smile. I don't actually care if we are late, it's not like we are missing something important. Every year is the same. But, I do prefer being in time just to avoid hearing the mayor's stupid talk about being role models afterwards.

We are close to the town square now, I can see the crowd in front of me. I'm thankful for having studied at the Academy, if not for it I would have probably stopped a long time ago, exhausted. We arrive and make our way towards the stage, the mayor thankfully hasn't start his speech yet, but gives us an angry look. We are definitely getting to hear a very long speech about being responsible later. The mayor stands up and I realize they were waiting for us to appear. I avoid looking at the crowd, I know how boring it is to be in there. So, I kinda feel bad for the children that stand there just waiting for the two volunteers to do their thing.

I sit on the chair as comfortable as I can, but I know that it ends up looking as if I believed that I own everything. I don't actually care, it's better that way. It helps with the almighty victor appearance. I roll up the sleeves of my white shirt, after running like that I feel like getting naked. Agatha is using a hand-held fan to give herself air, her brunette hair is held in a high ponytail. Her dress barely covers her chest, so all the guys at the crowd are probably having a great time. I know better than to do that and it's not like she's interested in any of _us_. She's wearing sunglasses, and even when people might think it is actually for the light, it's just to cover up her hangover. She always does this before the reaping day, well she actually does it almost all the time. I know her reasons so I don't judge her. We just have different ways to cope with the scars left by the Games.

The mayor is still giving his speech. I take a deep breath, this is going to take a lot of time. I decide to think of this year's volunteers. It's highly likely that one of them will make it back. I smile. If that happens, Mason and Mandy will go crazy. I start remembering what happened last year during one of the parties that are held for getting the sponsors to spend their money. I bet everyone remembers that. I'm not very proud of it, but I don't regret what I did.

"This year female tribute is..." Says the escort. Damn! Did I really got that lost in my thoughts? Either way, Flannel Hindrance puts his hand in the bowl and I can't help but wonder when is this dude going to retire. He is one of the last male escorts, and I can swear that he is mad. But, overall he's fun and relatively nice, so I don't mind having him around that much.

"Ruby Schwarz", he announces with a grin. He's old, even when he doesn't look his age, he has been district one's escort for as long as any of us can remember.

An eighteen years old girl makes her way towards the stage laughing, and I smile. Everyone on the stage does. This girl was reap last year too. She's not a student of the Academy though, she sells jewels along her family in a high end store that is near the Victor's Village. I like this people more, those whose life don't spin around the Games. I know that such thing is only possible in career districts though. And I also know that the Games were my life, and every time I have to be a mentor is like a reminder that I'm still controlled by them.

Then comes the usual, Flannel asks if there is a volunteer, the Academy student volunteers and the same happens with the male tribute. By the time the ceremony closes the two teenagers I'm taking are call Peyton Hemmings and Pryce Vexed Gardner. This year promises to be the same as always, but as long as I get to see _her_, I'm fine.

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**AN: Hey guys, I'll just take this note to say thanks for reading and reviewing the story.**

**Oh and remember to check out the blog! It's updated constantly and it has exclusive content. If you'll like to see more in the blog and have an idea, don't be afraid to tell me!**


	9. Chapter 8: Almost Easy

Chapter 8

Reapings

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**Almost Easy**

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**Wade Fairbain. 18 years old. District 11.**

I've hunted all morning, but so far I haven't caught much. I walk towards my house where I'm sure I'll get scolded by my mother for taking so long on the reaping day. I can't help it though, hunting relieves the fear that builds inside of me when this day comes. Luckily, and the only reason for me to be slightly happy today is that this will be my last reaping. However, I can't feel too good for this, my two sisters are still within the age gap, and it scares me to death that they have the chance of going to the Games. I know this is my mother's case too. She is normally strict, but she lets it get the worst out of her around this day. I'm sure it is all due to the nerves, she doesn't want to lose any of her children, and neither does my dad.

I have the habit of going over my chances on the reaping day, because I must be ready for the worst. But, I can only picture the worst as getting myself reaped. My sisters getting reaped is just unthinkable. I know hunting will be a huge bonus for me, as well as the knowledge my dad taught me of which plants are edible and which aren't. I also have good stamina, and physical strength. I could stand a chance in the arena. But, I obviously don't wish to take the risks of going in there. Every now and then, I think in the "What if I won?", instead of the "What if I get reaped?", and when I look it in that way at it doesn't seem as bad. It seems almost easy. Almost.

**Fawn Halley. 14 years old. District 11.**

I make my way towards the town square, slowly dribbling the bodies of the other kids in my section. It would be useful if I could say something for them to know that I'm trying to pass, but I can't. I've wondered many times what happened if a mute person wanted to volunteer... How would they do if they can't shout it? Would they run towards the stage? Would they throw their hands in the air? It would be interesting to see that happening. I finally reach the place I'm supposed to be in. I look towards those who are old enough not to get reaped, and see my mother and my father on the sidelines. They look at me, and she moves her hands in a sign I understand very well, she is telling me "we love you", I reply with a reassuring smile, even though I'm not very confident on the results of the reapings. It might be me. I look to the stage and get more nervous and scared than I was, it always happens when the reaping day comes. What if I get reaped? I probably won't have a chance. At least, I wouldn't get poisoned by plants... And, I can hunt. My mom will probably cry, she is very fragile... Dad will probably clench his fist to the sides, but he'll know better than to fight against the Games and the Capitol.

Trying to think in something else I look at the mentors, the only ones from this district that haven't disappeared in the Arena, the ones who came back. A sign of hope for all of us, especially for people like me that are within the reaping age. First, I look at Ruth, she is hard to miss, and will only lose to Sixta, our escort. It is known that Ruth loves Capitol fashion and she shows it. Those bright pink lips and excess of makeup are proofs of it. She looks rather bored, but I know she is there for a reason. She'll guide the two tributes, share her knowledge with them. And, the same goes for Harvey. He looks at the crowd absently, and in contrast to her, he looks more reserved... Like trying to camouflage with the chair or something.

Fear hits me again, and this time I can't seem to get distracted by whats on the stage aside from those bowls in which my name, along with the one of the others, is in. Please, Please... I don't want to get reaped. I don't want to.

**Ruth Cox, District 11. Victor of the 53rd Hunger Games.**

I'm on the stage, sitting beside Harvey and I can't wait for this to finish already. I want to head for the Capitol, have the amazing food they serve and all the commodities. But, first I have to wait for the two brats that will come with us. They will be weaklings for sure, just as every other year. Not that I care. I hope they die fast, if they do, I'll be able to spend the rest of my time doing whatever I want, instead of going to the sponsors and appear as if I was trying to make them come back, I could enjoy the party itself if it wasn't for them.

The major stands up and starts his speech, the same as every year. I know it already so I don't bother to listen, it doesn't say anything important either way. I scan over the crowd, looking at all this weaklings. They don't look promising at all. Good. People believe that as a mentor I should care, that I should look forward to bringing my district's tributes back. But, I couldn't care less. They only cause troubles and I hate being a babysitter. So, whatever... If they die, it's their fault for being so useless and lame. Harvey was my only mentor, he didn't do anything, and I still won. I came back as a victor by my own means, they should all be capable of doing the same. But no. They arrive to the train and keep asking questions, looking expectantly at me, as if I had the key for their success. Well, I don't. They suck and it can't be helped. The tributes from this year will just die like the others, and if I'm lucky enough in the bloodbath. I see the faces of some mentors in my head, the painful or angry expressions they put when their tributes die, the key for doing this job without having it ruining you is not to get attached to the two kids that will go to the slaughter. It's logical and simple to do.

Finally the escort takes a step forward, and I take a second to admire her appearance. I like it. Capitol fashion has always appealed my eyes, and her curly blonde hair with the pink make up, and long lashes looked fabulous. However, I wouldn't have used those light blue heels, with the yellow skirt and orange blouse.

Her fingers move inside the bowl, until she finally picks a paper with the tip of her long red nails.

-"Fawn Halley!" she announces. There is movement in the fourteen years old section and in there stood a little pale girl. She can't possibly be fourteen! I can't help but smile, she is dead meat for sure! I mean, she looks like a ten years old. The small girl makes her way towards the stage after a moment, keeping a straight face. Oh girl, don't even bother to look strong for the cameras, they know people like you have no chance.

Next she goes on to the male tribute, and it can't get any better than this. I'm already halfway free, I just need another weakling so I don't have to put up the act of helping Harvey with the male tribute.

-"Wade Fairbain!" announces Sixta. I roll my eyes when I see movement in the eighteen years old section. Why couldn't he be another helpless kid? A blond muscular guy comes out, looking rather confident. Oh no... I hate this sort of tributes! The ones that think they have a chance, and worst than that, the ones who actually have it. I guess I won't be able to have a good time after all, unless he is just looks, which I hope like nothing else.

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**AN: Sorry for the long wait! I've been busy 1) Vacations with no internet, 2) Merciless teachers at school. But, I'm back and I hope I'll be able to update soon, even when I doubt it'll be as soon as I did in the beginning. **

**Also, pardon my rusty writing skills, it's been a while.**


	10. Chapter 9: Wake Me Up

Chapter 9

Reapings

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**Wake Me Up**

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**Lilium Walker, 17 years old. District 9.**

I'm running through the woods, trying desperately to escape. Somebody is chasing me I'm sure of it, I'm sure that something bad will happen if I get caught, but I also know this is a dream. I know it isn't real, and I want to look back and see who is persistently trying to get me. But, I can't. Instead I keep running, until I suddenly come to a stop. I don't feel as if I am being chased anymore, I feel safe. Then I see his body. I am far but I know it is my dad, even when I don't really remember him well. I also know he is dead. I scream, and as I do, I wake up.

I am brushing my hair, waiting for my mother and sister to be ready. Reapings are today. I think of my dream, I want to know what happened. How did he died? Who killed him? Why? But, I don't know, nobody does, and we won't ever do. I should worry, I should be worrying about myself and not dwelling on the past. I hate the games, but I will accept my fate. Lately everything has been good, so I won't be surprised if something awful happens. It is all part of that endless circle I call life. I know I'm thinking like this because I'm scared, I want to convince myself that I'm ready for the worst, and it makes me angry to know that I am not. I could win though... But, I would have to kill people to make my way to the top. However, sometimes... I can't help but feel that doing so would be worth it.

**Tarson Keers, 15 years old. District 9.**

The kid reaches out for my hand as I help him stand up. I had found him laying on the ground on my way to the reapings. Maybe he fell, but I wouldn't know. I was looking down, lost in my thoughts. I feel kind of bad for not paying attention, I could have warned him that there was a rock in his way or something like that. The boy gives me a smile and I smile back at him. Then I scream, and fall to my knees. I feel like throwing up. He kicked me on the groin! I can feel how he reaches out to my pockets and takes away the little money I had. I can't do anything though, the pain is too strong. I feel like I'm burning and there are dots on my sight. Damn, this sucks!

After about ten minutes I'm able to get up and walk normally, not without still feeling pain, it was bearable though. I look around and see people passing, they didn't even bother to help me, or ask if I was okay. Actually, they don't even bother looking at me. They are too busy walking towards the town square. I convince myself that it's all thanks to the nerves, they are scared and it can't be helped. After all, I am scared too. The reapings are today, two of us are going to the Arena, and it's highly likely that they won't come back. I think as they, because I can't think of it as me. I can't bring myself to do so. I use this to excuse the kid's behavior too, that and the fact that he was probably hungry. I would have preferred he had just asked me for the money though.

I keep walking, and as I do, I smile. I just remembered that my brother is finally safe! He is out of the reaping age, so I don't have to fear that he'll get reaped anymore. He wouldn't have had a chance, not when he can't see the world. It wouldn't have been fair, but then again, the Games never are.

**Brent Boule, District 9. Victor of the 32nd Hunger Games.**

The mayor is known to be a man of few words, and due to this he keeps his speech short and simple. Mayor Ameren is one of the few men I acknowledge as intelligent, and considerate. Some people are foolish enough to think that his brief speech is due to a lack of inventive in what to say, but I know better.

The tension in front of us rises as the escort stands up, the children tremble in panic and their parents do the same on the sidelines, I do it too. Duke, my youngest son, is there. I can see him from here, fear filling his eyes, he avoids my eyes, he is a proud boy who won't accept something as fear and less in front of me. I wish I could reach out to him and tell him its alright to be afraid, that it is nothing to be ashamed of. It is actually the most reasonable and human thing to feel in a moment like this.

The escort picks a name from the female's bowl. She grabs the microphone and reads it out loud.

"Lilium Walker!" shouts the escort. A tall girl walks out of the seventeen years old section. At first with a shocked expression but with every step she took, her face became a little more determined, or at least she made it look that way.

I don't get the time to actually acknowledge whether the girl will have any chance at the Games, since my nerves are taking over. I clench my fists on my lap, trying not to tap my foot against the stage. I can feel how my heart beats faster, how my head gets dizzy and the horrible thoughts that pass through my mind. What if my boy gets reaped?

The escort moves towards the male's bowl. In what probably were seconds, but for me hours, she picks a name.

"Tarson Keers!" I let out the air I was containing. I can feel my muscles relaxing, my body getting its calm once more. It wasn't him, my son is safe… At least, for now he is. I can't help but feel bad about the boy who got reaped, but I can't avoid feeling relieved that it wasn't Duke.

I see the boy's face, he looks devoid of emotion, with a blank expression. He stands in the fifteen years old's section. I can easily see myself in this kid… The face I had when I stood there in the middle of my peers, as my world crumbled down, as I took that step forward that would change life as I knew it… The beginning of the end.

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**AN: Thanks for reviewing guys! It means a lot. Any favorites yet?**

**The title is due to Avicii's song, I was hearing it before writing this chapter. Sorry for the shortness of the chapter... I guess I am feeling like Mayor Ameren**

**Remember to check out the blog!**


	11. Chapter 10: Raging Storm

Chapter 10

Reapings

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**Raging Storm**

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**Current Hayes, 16 years old. District 4. **

My heart is beating faster and faster, my face is sweaty and I need to grab the sides of the boat for support. I feel unsteady, and light-headed. I remind myself I must keep my calm. I inhale and exhale slowly and several times until I feel in control again. I hate when this happens, I feel so vulnerable so helpless. I can't let this happen anymore, not now, not when I'm about to go to the Arena. I try to concentrate in the movement of the boat, the motion of the water underneath me. I close my eyes, and picture my little sister smiling at me, my dad with his fishing rod, and my mom sitting in her chair looking at the ocean. I'm doing this for them. And for me too, I add quickly.

I normally go to the sea to help dad fishing, but not today. Today is one of the few days I decided to get some time for myself, to think a bit. And, moreover to calm the storm within me. Even though, I believe keeping myself busy is more useful, since getting time to think like this tends to crush me. If I have my mind busy with other things, I don't have the time to think about whats wrong, and I like that. But, sometimes it is good to get a full view of whats going on, even when it makes me panic.

I look at my reflection in the water. I look tired, but aside from that, I look as I normally do. I run my hand through my brown hair trying to make it more presentable, it's an important day after all. I focus on the scar below my right eye. I pass the tip of my finger over it, reminding how my mother threw the bottle to the floor, and how the glass flew straight to my face. I'm thankful for the fact that it didn't hit me in the eye, I'd have lost it. But, I'm even more thankful that it landed on me and not in Noelia. I hold my glasses in their place since they were falling and I smile. I smile because it's the only thing I can do to reassure myself, to make me think that it will be alright.

I am now walking to the town square. We normally go together as a family, but I felt like walking on my own today. Though, now I kind of regret it. I could use my sister's jokes at this moment, or dad's reassuring words. Damn, I could even use my mom's company now! Even when she wouldn't remember later, even when she'd have a bottle in her hand. I've never stop wondering what made her turn to alcohol, but I don't have the courage to ask. I guess I fear the answer, or hurting them by just questioning about it. When I come back I'll ask them, I promise I will.

I am now standing in the sixteen years old section, everybody seems to give me quick glances. Some of them congratulate me, some just throw angry looks at me. But, I can only think of how will my sister be once I head out to the Capitol. Dad promised me he will be more at home, that he'll take care of my mom and her. I trust him, but I can't help but feel a little doubtful about it. He loves us, but he hates to deal with mom's hangovers. However, Noelia needs to be taken care of, especially since mom is like that, and I hope he understands it. But, what if I don't come back? How long will he be able to cope with the responsibilities I have handled? I shake this thoughts away. I can't be thinking in this when I'm just minutes away from volunteering. I need to come back, and I will come. As manipulative and misleading the Games might be, the rewards will solve our problems. Dad will be able to work less, and spend more time with us. And, who knows my mom might even get better… I smile. This is the life I've always dreamt of, and I'm so close to it. There is no turning back now.

**Cascade Maren, 17 years old. District 4.**

I walk towards my place in the town square, and as I do a girl bumps into me. She wasn't looking where she was walking, and with the impact her glasses fell. I frown at her as she kneels to the floor to retrieve them, I don't know this girl. She is surely not from the Academy, therefore she isn't worth my time. The girl finally stands up and starts babbling an apology.

"I'm sorry… I'm so stupid…" the girl says. I feel bad for her, but I can't let her go unpunished by what she did either. It's not how I'm supposed to act.

"Oh darling don't worry, I'm not surprised by that. It is something I completely expect from people like _you_", I keep walking, and as I do I purposely crash my shoulder against hers. I can hear how the girl lets out pained sound and how her glasses, once again, hit the floor.

I finally reach my section, and I exchange words with those I call my friends, though they don't really know me. They think they do, but they won't ever know what really goes in my head. For them, I'll always be the mean girl who loves parties and slaying dummies. I look towards the eighteen years old section where I see Swift, the only one I consider to be me my real friend. She gives me a reassuring smile and then turns her head to the stage.

The mayor starts his speech, and there's silence in the crowd. Soon the escort will grab the microphone and announce the person who got reaped, then I'll volunteer. I'll make my family proud, wherever they are, by doing so. I can even make my father regret leaving us. Everybody probably thinks I am extremely excited for the Games to begin, that I can't wait to get my hands in a weapon and start killing people. But, I hate the Games. I'm just good at pretending to like them, I've become quite skilled at lying to keep others away. I've learned the hard way, not to trust people... Not to let them have a place in my heart, after all, they all leave. Either because they decided that sticking around is not worth it or because a storm takes their lives away. Seeming as if I didn't care about anything is a way of protecting myself, a way of not getting disappointed or hurt. I have my sister Turquoise and Swift, I don't need anybody else. I don't want to need anyone else.

I am not scared of volunteering, so I'm at ease while the mayor gives his speech, after all, I have nothing to fear. If I win, I'll be rich and fulfilling my family's wish, if I die, I'll be able to see most of them in whatever comes next.

**Marina Fey, District 4. Victor of the 59th Hunger Games.**

I think that sitting here is one of the hardest things of the Games. I remember how Nathan winked at me from the crowd, his warm and reassuring smile. I didn't want him to volunteer, but he made it look as if everything was going to be alright. I believed him, or at least I wanted to. And, now he is gone. I get to see every year how others do the same, determination in their eyes. Not knowing that they might not come back, and even if they know, not caring enough to avoid the risk. Carter squeezes my hand, and I look at him. He gives me a little smile and a nod. I do the same, I'm grateful for him to be here. He lost someone he loved that day too after all. On this day, we give each other strength, or at least that's what he says. I think I'm the only one being helped, he seems so secure about everything... I see no way of being of use in this matter.

I know this year's volunteers already, and I had nightmares with both last night. I couldn't sleep because of the awful dreams, I woke up screaming several times, covered in sweat and crying. I hate to be a mentor, it just opens a deep wound and makes it bigger and bigger. I try my best though, we both do. We want to bring one of them back, like we wanted Nathan to. But, sometimes we can't do anything, like at that time. And, even when we can do something, one of them will still be gone. We know this, or try to convince ourselves that there is nothing we can do, that we share our knowledge with the volunteers and find them sponsors, but that sometimes it isn't enough. It might not be our fault, but we still feel guilty that they died. Maybe if we had given them another tip, or if we had found them a better weapon… It haunts us to think in the 'what ifs'.

I didn't think this way before, I thought like a career. I shouldn't mind if they died, but Nathan's death changed this. I loved him, and I lost him. Loosing someone changes you, and no matter what, you are never the same.

I see how the escort puts her hand in the bowl and chooses a name. I see how Cascade Maren shouts that she volunteers, and then how Current Hayes does the same, taking the place of the little boy who got reaped. One of them has to come back. We must do everything that is in our hands for that to happen, I don't want anybody to lose a loved one like we did. It is a shame that only one can come back… It is a shame that the Games exist. But, there's nothing to do about them. Is it?

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**AN: I don't know why, but it was a hard chapter to write... Hope you guys like it! **


	12. Chapter 11: Perspective

Chapter 11

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**Perspective**

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**Wallace Duncan, Head Gamemaker. **

I'm sitting on the side of my bed, looking straight towards the screen where the reapings are on. I was luckily able to convince Snow that I wanted to see it on my own, in the comfort of my room, where I "would get even more creative ideas for the outcome of the Games". I just really wanted to be alone the first time I see the faces of those whose life will be on my hands, those who in a few days will die. It starts with the emblem of Panem, and then the history of the Games, like every single year. After that, District One's shield appears, the mayor is giving his speech, and the camera moves towards the mentors.

I can see Alexandrite Thyst's face clearly, it is sweaty, his green eyes scanning the crowd, while he sits powerfully in his chair. He is one of the most loved tributes, Capitol women lose their minds for him, and yet he is one of the most feared. I remember his Games clearly, he was only fourteen at the time he became a victor. Now that I think about it, I remember there was an incident in one of the sponsorships party that involved him, not that I know much about that. Then, there is Agatha Lloyd sitting next to him. The brunette is looking as beautiful and stunning as she normally does, and wearing sunglasses, my guess being due to the sun, her face is sweaty too. It will be a pleasure to meet this to victors, they are legends basically. For some reason I can't hate them, even when they aren't my sort of people, there is some mystery behind these two that makes them intriguing.

The camera zooms out, and focus on the escort's hand as he picks this year's tributes. I smirk a little when I hear the female tribute's name... Ruby Schwarz once again. If she was in any other District she will be the epitome of bad luck, but its not the case. Of course there'll be a volunteer, it's District One after all. In less than ten seconds I can hear a girl shouting those common words, and the camera trying to get a look of her. A beautiful petite girl comes out of the seventeen's years old section, her light golden brown hair flowing against the wind as she proudly makes her way towards the stage. I focus my eyes on hers, and these are the second most stunning eyes I've seen, right after that sponsorship's hostess, in less than a week. This girl's eyes are different, they are rare. They are like the ocean's deepest zones, a dark blue. I shake my head, I really need to stop focusing in women's eyes for a change… I get too lost in them. She grabs the microphone and says her name… Peyton Hemmings.

With no time to waste, the good old Flannel Hindrance, District One's escort since forever, announces the male tribute. Cyan Diname gets reaped, but immediately the volunteer makes his move. He comes out of the seventeen years old section, his athletic body moving decidedly towards his place. He looks well-trained, he'll probably last long. Well, the careers normally do. This guy's name is Pryce Vexed Gardner, and as soon as they announce both of the tributes names officially, District Two's shield appears. Mayor Gneiss is giving his speech and I can see that his daughter is mentoring again. Mandy sits snobbily in her chair, with her chin up. I just decided that I will dislike her, she looks just like everyone in the Capitol, as if they thought they were better than anybody else, and I don't think so at all. By her side I can see Mason Linney, which is what I call the typical career, well they both are. Brutal, competitive and as proud as a person can be, which means they are quite popular in the Capitol. I'll make sure people like that are not able to win in this Games. If only one can survive, let it at least be someone better than these egomaniacs. Damn, I don't even know this two, I'm taking it too far. But, just looking at them makes me sick, I don't know why. Either way, the ceremony is fast, in career districts it normally is though. It's as simple as girl gets reaped, another one volunteers, and the same for the boys, year after year. The final tributes are Bianca Seabone, a tall brunette with a muscular body build, and Zander Brooke, a handsome and tall muscular eighteen years old. Two well-trained tributes, who so far seem like their mentors.

I like District Three, it's a normal district in the middle of the powerful career ones. But, it also means that I'll get to see the first pair of innocent people who will get reaped. I mean, the first ones that are not aware that they are going to the Games. I do have hopes in this District though, it might have few victors, but they have Ampere Elyot, who was just thirteen at the time of his Games. I admire this guy's intelligence. The camera focus him, District Three's reapings are on. He sits on his chair looking at the crowd through his glasses, he is quite muscular now, but when he won, he was a scrawny kid. Cali Farad, the other mentor, is also quite admirable, she is one of the youngest female tributes to ever win the Games, she became victor when she was fourteen. If I had to identify myself with a district, I'll definitely choose District Three. Then, the _scene_ happens. I can see how a little blonde girl gets reaped, how her brother hits the peacekeeper, how the peacekeeper hits him, how Ampere steps forward to defend them, and how the boy gets reaped and takes the stage by his sister's side. Woah! My head is running wild, I'm probably thinking in a thousand things now. I feel how guilt builds inside of me, they will never come back alive, at least not both. I think that I was right about Ampere being an admirable person, and, about how lucky I was of having the privilege to watch the unedited and live video, because this will be surely edited. It is too much of an act of disobedience to show it to everybody, and this people can't be touched since they are Game material, so they cant be punished, at least not now... One of them can do it... One of this kids might win, District Three normally has young victors… But, even if one survived, I doubt life will be the same without each other. I can feel my stomach twisting, I'll have to kill them… I am truly a monster.

I can see the fishes of District Four's emblem and I remind myself that there are more tributes, that I must finish what I started. It is for a greater cause, it really is… I have to keep this in mind or I'll go insane, instead of doing what I must. I am suddenly grateful that next district is a career one. For some reason careers don't make me feel as bad as normal districts do, after all, they are choosing to come here, even when they know the risks. I try to leave the Giga twins out of my mind, instead I focus on the mentors who are now on the screen. I don't hate this two, they look nice. But, probably I feel this way because of the story they share. It changed them for the better, I believe. Before, they looked very much like Mandy and Mason, but now they seem more caring… More preoccupied. Its their job to help their tributes, even if they are volunteers, and I hope they do so, I hope every mentor does. They are holding hands, but instead of a romantic sign I see it more as in support. If I perceived it as romantically I will definitely despise both of them, but for some reason I see it as a symbol of strength. Maybe I'm getting soft, or I just don't want to add more people to my long hate list. This two are for me the best example of hope, they show me that there is still hope for evil people, they just need to know what they are doing… even if they have to suffer to learn the lesson. For this district there is a tanned, dark-haired good-looking girl called Cascade Maren, and a muscular guy with glasses named Current Hayes. The girl way of walking makes me think that she'll go for the flirtatious angle, if she does, she'll probably ace it. And, this is the first tribute of District Four that I see with glasses, it's peculiar, also if I was him… I'll go for the nice guy angle, he doesn't have the typical career face so that might work out for him. And, now… Let the torture of the remaining districts continue… It's just fair for me to suffer, they will all do at the end.

_To be continued..._

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**AN: I needed some sort of break from the reapings... So, here you go! Any favorites?**


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